"Commander, I brought the package you requested.” General Rainier's bodyguard stepped into his office, leading a very frazzled looking colonel by the collar of his shirt. "He tried to hide out on post, like that would stop me."

The bodyguard shoved the colonel into the single chair in front of Rainier’s desk. The same faulty lightbulb from before flicked on and off overhead.

"Not exactly the welcome I was expecting." Colonel Bradshaw straightened in his chair, trying unsuccessfully to appear dignified after he’d just been thrown around like an old dishrag. "My team has located the sister. The evidence will be destroyed tonight. I’ve cleaned up the mess you started.”

The general steepled his fingers together and stared thoughtfully at the man who used to serve underneath his command. "Watch your tone, Bradshaw." Rainier's voice remained soft but the colonel would have to be an idiot not to hear the thread of threat lining his words.

Bradshaw sneered. "I don't have to watch anything around you anymore. You don't have rank on me. You’re nothing. A fugitive. I could have you arrested and thrown in Leavenworth with the snap of my fingers."

"You mean like this?" Rainier lifted his hand and snapped his fingers.

On cue, his bodyguard came up behind Bradshaw, wrapped his thick arm around Bradshaw's neck and began to squeeze. Bradshaw kicked and squirmed and clawed at the guard’s arm unsuccessfully.

"You see, Colonel, I can snap my fingers, too. Only you won't have the luxury of spending the rest of your life in a federally funded jail cell.” Rainier snapped his fingers again and his bodyguard released him.

Bradshaw gasped and fell to the floor, one bony hand around his throat, the other holding himself up. Rainier nodded and his bodyguard picked Bradshaw up, sat him in the chair and then stepped back in the shadows.

Rainier laced his fingers behind his back and strolled casually around the corner of his beaten-up metal desk, ignoring the roar of the subway train rolling overhead. He locked gazes with Bradshaw, letting the man see the warning in his eyes. "Where's my gold?"

"I don't know," Bradshaw sputtered, still holding onto what was going to be a very bruised throat.

"You don't know?" Rainier asked quietly.

Bradshaw scrambled back in his chair, the fear in his eyes growing as he began to realize this scenario wasn't going to play out the way he’d planned. "I had it set up perfectly. I even had that fucking piece of shit Rashid show his face to make it look like a terrorist attack."

"And?"

Bradshaw glanced warily over his shoulder, rightfully frightened of the man standing behind him.

Rainier grabbed Bradshaw’s chin and ripped his head around, squeezing his face between his thumb and fingers in a grip tight enough to leave a bruise. "If he wants to kill you, I promise you won't see it coming. But he works for me, so if you want to live for the next five minutes you better tell me the truth. What happened to the plan? Where is my fucking gold?"

"One of the men on the team we sent as part of the distraction found out. He knew what we were doing, and he blocked us." Bradshaw yanked his face free, glaring up at the general with hate in his eyes. Hate and fear.

Rainier linked his fingers together behind his back again and turned, picking up his casual stroll as he fought to get his boiling rage under control. He didn't want Bradshaw to know how badly he needed that gold. The ignorant sheik they’d tried to steal from had no right to that amount of wealth, hadn’t done anything with it but sit on it and live in a tent in the middle of the desert. Rainier was going to put it to much greater use—to reestablish his lab, set up a facility, find researchers. As soon as he captured Dr. Averton and Team Mayhem, he wanted to be fully operational in the same week.

But that was something he couldn't do without funds.

No matter how much he wanted to have his man snap Bradshaw's neck right then and there, he still needed the colonel. At least until they recovered his gold.

"Give me the name of the soldier. My guard can handle him."

The chair squeaked and Rainier turned to see Bradshaw getting shakily to his feet, turning so that he could keep an eye on both Rainier and the guard. "The bomb we had detonated to cover our tracks took out his entire unit."

"And Rashid?"

Bradshaw tugged at his collar, sweat beading his temples. "He – he's disappeared."

"With my gold. You lost a low-level terrorist and let some grunt steal my gold?”

Rainier glanced at his guard, who immediately crowded Bradshaw and pinned him against the moldy brick wall, one arm at his throat, the other holding a small deadly looking blade against Bradshaw's cheek. Rainier approached the pair, allowing a small measure of his anger to show. "We had a deal, colonel. I help you launder the gold after you give me my portion."

"Please –" Bradshaw's words ended in a strangled gargle as the guard shoved his meaty forearm against the man's windpipe.

"John, let's remind the colonel of what happens to men who try to double cross me." Rainier took a step back. He didn't want his clothes to get splattered with Bradshaw's blood.

John, his guard, released Bradshaw from the wall and then grabbed his arm, dragging him across the room to Rainier's desk. He shoved him down on his chest and drug his arms across the top. Then John shackled Bradshaw’s wrist to the table, pulled out his knife and buried it in Bradshaw’s hand, pinning him to the desk.

Bradshaw screamed, his entire body convulsing. "I know Rashid has it! I can get it!"

John's face was completely expressionless. The man was a walking killing machine.

Rainier nodded and John ripped the knife free. Then he wiped the bloodied blade on Bradshaw's back before re-sheathing it.

Rainier leaned down close so Bradshaw could see his face. "You've got 48 hours. After that, John here is going to start with that precious wife you're so proud of. So, if you're thinking about running, don't, because I’ll murder your entire family."

Bradshaw clutched his wounded hand to his chest, obviously struggling for control. "Yes, sir. I'll get you the gold."

"Good. I've eaten dinner with your wife multiple times. I really hate killing people I know. I'm sure she would appreciate your resiliency." Rainier went back to his chair behind the desk and eased into the seat. "John, he's bleeding on my desk."

John grabbed Bradshaw’s collar once more and yanked him to his feet, ripped open the door and shoved the colonel outside. He'd have his guard stay on Bradshaw, make sure the man didn't try to take his wife and get out of the country.

General Rainier could practically feel victory within his grasp. The photo of Hicks had given them a solid starting point of where to locate the team, and with the gold, he'd be able to tap into more resources to quickly track them down and use them to force Dr. Averton to recreate the serum. He'd have Project Mayhem back up and running soon. Very soon.

Then he’d make an example of every man on Mayhem so that no one would ever have the guts to betray him again.